


Hell Hath No Fury

by beeswaxing



Series: Trophy Wife [4]
Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ, JYJ - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-08 00:33:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1126255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beeswaxing/pseuds/beeswaxing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some unfortunately timed photos in the gossip section of the daily paper send the two young trophy wives into a rage that their husbands won’t soon forget. However is that really what Changmin is angry about?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell Hath No Fury

“I’ve popped.” The man’s tone is one of disbelief with a hint of annoyance as he leans against the grand banister of the magnificent staircase in the foyer of the Park Mansion. However instead of the sympathy he expects, his ears are assaulted by a high-pitched squeal and suddenly he finds himself with an armful of pregnant male.

“Let me see! Let me see!” And before he can protest, his shirt has been yanked unceremoniously up and cooing sounds echo around the cavernous hall as a cold hand rubs the tiny bump on his belly. The man swats at the intrusive appendage, huffing in disgust as he pushes his friend away, pinning the shorter man with a deadly glare, daring him to make another move.

Jaejoong cocks his head and pouts at his friend. “Why are you so grumpy? You’ve been in a real snit since we found out you’re pregnant too. Shouldn’t you be happy? You were so happy for me when you found out I was pregnant, why aren’t you just as excited about your own baby?”

Changmin looks away, tucking his shirt back loosely into the waistband of his pants, unable to meet Jaejoong’s curious eyes. Yes, why is he grumpy? He knows why but he’s not sure if he wants to share it with his crazy friend. He loves Jaejoong but the blond man’s lack of a filter when angry can be quite a problem. He runs his hand through his hair, as he heads to the kitchen to get a drink. He senses Jaejoong trailing after him, and wonders how long it’ll take for the shorter man to drag his secret out of him.

They both perch on the swiveling bar stools at the end of the large granite island in the middle of Jaejoong’s industrial size kitchen as Changmin slowly sips his glass of cold water. He can see the shorter man out of the corner of his eye, resting an elbow on the counter and cupping his chin in his hand. His messy blond hair falling about his large expressive eyes, red pouty lips pursed as it is wont to do when the man is thinking. Jaejoong is the picture of innocence. However looks are extremely deceiving, especially when it comes to this particular young man and Changmin ignores him, even though he can feel those doe eyes boring into the side of his head, trying to see right through him, to dig out his deepest thoughts. It’s quite unsettling for someone as private as Changmin. Both he and Jaejoong are as opposite in temperament as they are in looks. He is the dark to the other’s light. Tall to his short. Quiet to his loud. Logical to his irrationality… well you get the picture. But despite all that, Jaejoong seems to have decided that Changmin is a stray puppy in need of loving and ever since they met at the tender age of fourteen, adopted him as such, despite only being a few months older than the taller man. Changmin, having lost both parents at a young age, basks in Jaejoong’s love because the man never does anything by half measures. He hates with a vengeance and his formidable temper is legendary throughout South Korea and probably the whole of East Asia, but he also loves deeply and completely and Changmin is not immune to that big heart even though the man truly drives him crazy sometimes with his behaviour and theatrics. Jaejoong enjoys pushing buttons just to see how far someone can be pushed and Changmin learned early on that the best way to deal with his best friend is to simply not react.

“What’s wrong Minnie-ah?” Jaejoong is genuinely concerned as he reaches out and rubs a bony knee. Changmin’s temperament is usually quite even despite his pregnancy and the hormonal changes it inadvertently brings, and for Jaejoong, it is a blissful change compared to the emotional and clueless idiot that is his husband. He loves Micky but swear to god the two of them rile each other up far too much to be healthy. Changmin is like a glass of cold water on Jaejoong’s hot flame compared to the grease that is Micky Park Yoochun. Throwing fat into fire will only make matters worse.

“How long have you been married?”

Jaejoong’s is confused at the question but answers it anyway. “Two years last month. Why?”

“You’re not a very good wife.” Changmin’s tone is without malice. He is simply stating a fact. His finger circles the rim of his glass, making tiny squeaking noises.

Jaejoong bristles at that statement but he holds his tongue. It is a monumental effort to be sure but contrary to popular belief, he does have far more control of his temper than he lets on. However he can’t help but squeeze Changmin’s knee in warning.

If Changmin’s recognises the warning, he doesn’t let on as he continues, “You kick Micky out of the house more times than I care to remember. You scream at him in public and throw tantrums in his office. You use sex as a weapon and will gleefully tell anyone who will listen about it. Namely, me.”

Well, those are all facts that Jaejoong cannot deny so he remains silent, waiting.

“And despite all that, Micky loves you, doesn’t he? Because if he didn’t, I swear you’d be divorced and homeless right now.”

Jaejoong frowns, picking up on the sadness in Changmin’s voice rather than the words he is saying, and he keeps his tongue.

“I’m a good wife.”

The pause is lengthy this time, Changmin having stopped his fidgeting, and is now just staring at the half full glass and Jaejoong wonders if it’s time to speak up. However, before he can open his mouth, Changmin continues.

“I am the perfect wife, in fact. I try to be everything Yunho expects from a wife. Yes, I probably nag him way too much but the man is a slob and will live quite happily surrounded by his _organized mess_ , whatever that means. It’s an oxymoron.”

Jaejoong simply nods, knowing this to be true. Changmin and Yunho are one of those couples that outsiders envy and insiders marvel at. They are the yin to the other’s yang, their connection almost seamless. They can even communicate without speaking, something Jaejoong wonders at constantly. He’s seen Changmin shut Yunho up with a single look and vice versa and sometimes he wishes his own husband isn’t so oblivious. There was many a time where he envied the Jungs’ marriage, but then again he’d probably die of boredom if married to Yunho. The man just turns and walks away at any sign of a tantrum. Jaejoong needs an audience and Micky is most attentive.

“He is clueless when it comes to relationships even though he probably thinks he knows everything. He is also the most forgetful man on this planet. I swear to god if his head wasn’t attached to his body, he’d have lost it by now. How he remembers anything or gets work done is beyond me sometimes. I’m just waiting for him to forget our wedding anniversary for the second time. Micky doesn’t forget does he? Not White Day or Rose Day or Kiss Day any of those other special days?” Changmin takes a deep breath after his soft tirade, trying to keep the sadness from his voice but he doesn’t quite succeed. “Sometimes I wonder if he remembers he even has a wife.”

Jaejoong squeezes his friend’s knee once again, this time in sympathy. He remembers the last Rose Day, Micky arranging a delivery of a hundred deep red blooms to their photoshoot and the whisperings Changmin had to endure when nothing came for him. Not one to stand for the nonsense from the staff around them, Jaejoong had declared the flowers were from both their husbands and his fierce glare at anyone who dares to say otherwise made for a rather uncomfortable afternoon shoot. He remembers Changmin getting angry with him for his white lie, saying he doesn’t care about Rose Day or White Day or Black Day or any of the stupid days Korean men, husbands and boyfriends in particular, are expected to remember and celebrate. Why is his friend caring now?

“I’m the perfect wife.” Changmin repeats. “So why can’t he love me?” Changmin’s voice cracks on the word “love” and Jaejoong’s heart breaks for his friend.

“Oh, Minnie.” Jaejoong hops off his bar stool and turns Changmin’s towards him, stepping between the taller man’s legs and wrapping the thinner man in his arms, hugging him as close as his five month pregnant belly will allow. It’s quite clear how much this is affecting the younger man as he hunches over to bury his face in the side of Jaejoong’s warm neck, sniffling quietly, as Jaejoong tightens his embrace of the taller supermodel. Inwardly he is fuming, wanting nothing more than to hurl something heavy at Yunho’s head for making his friend cry. True, the man is probably just as useless and clueless as Micky, but that’s no excuse. Not to Jaejoong’s young and loyal mind anyway. He lets Changmin spend himself against his neck, hands rubbing soothingly up and down the younger man’s back, realising the hormones are probably wreaking havoc since Changmin has always scoffed at the idea of love. He’s guessed for awhile that his friend is in love with the mercurial head of Jung Corp especially after Changmin pours out the hurt he felt a month ago when he and Yunho had had a rather bad fight in Hong Kong. He’s only ever seen Changmin cry twice too in the five odd years they’ve known each other so that’s yet another thing to be angry with Yunho about. However, Jaejoong knows well enough not to say anything and let Changmin sort it out for himself in his head. Unlike himself who will vocalise every thought, his younger friend prefers being his own devil’s advocate. He doesn’t feel even a twinge of sympathy for Yunho though. Micky and Yunho may be good husbands and providers, not to mention revered businessmen, but they are also mighty dense. It’s a wonder they’re even able to run companies when they cannot even understand their own wives.

They stay like that, Jaejoong offering whatever comfort he can, for a good while till the younger man finally collects himself, Changmin breaking the stranglehold Jaejoong has on him, the man now practically in his lap. His belly pressing against his own. It’s a strange feeling, made stranger when Jaejoong’s baby suddenly kicks and Changmin feels it against his own newly popped belly.

“Oh!”

Jaejoong beams, leaning back slightly and smiling beatifically up at the surprised man. “He’s just saying hi to his future wife.”

“Why is my baby the wife?” Changmin’s tone is disgruntled as he cards his fingers absentmindedly through Jaejoong’s hair, pushing the fringe back, stroking the dark blond locks, playing at the flyaway wisps, tucking a stray curl behind an elfin ear.

“Cos mine’s older!”

“By barely two months!”

“Still older. Like us. Call me, hyung!” Jaejoong demands as he sticks out his tongue at the younger man, earning himself a decided eye-roll, but he is pleased to see the beginnings of a smile tug at the corners of Changmin’s mouth. The atmosphere in the kitchen lightens and while he wants nothing more than to press his friend for details, he knows he will get nothing till he good and ready to have a proper talk.

They are interrupted by one of the housemaids who deposits the morning mail neatly on the counter by Jaejoong’s elbow, and the daily papers. Changmin spins his friend around and they shuffle so Jaejoong has access to the counter with the mail but he is still comfortably situated between the V of Changmin’s long legs. Jaejoong leans back against the taller man, who wraps his legs around his thighs, as he starts opening the mail with the ornate letter opener that the maid has left on the pile of envelopes. Changmin casually slings an arm around Jaejoong, rubbing idly at his belly as his other hand flips through the newspapers, chin resting lightly on Jaejoong’s shoulder.

Jaejoong is busy looking through some catering details for the dinner he’s hosting that weekend when a sharp gasp reaches his ears, Changmin’s hands reflexively clutching at his belly and the older man winces slightly, prying his friend’s hand away and linking their fingers instead. He looks over to what the younger man is looking at and his own gasp is loud in his ears. He is blind to everything apart from the photos staring tauntingly back at him from the pages of the newspaper and he sees red. Both of them are now squeezing each other’s hands tightly as their eyes take in photographs that their minds are refusing to process.

“Those fucking bitches.” Jaejoong all but snarls as places a hand on Changmin’s knee to steady himself. He is ready to scream at something, anything. He can feel the usual pangs of insecurity bubbling up and he hates it. He hates it with a vengeance and Micky is going to pay for making him feel this way.

The two young wives are staring holes into the offending photographs and if those women had been in front of them, they’d be more than likely missing hair by now. Pregnant wives are not always rational wives…and it is into this mess that their husbands walk in.

Changmin is the first to notice Yunho’s laughter as the two older men stroll around the corner and into the kitchen. They are both carrying flowers and laughing merrily at something and the teenager sees red. As is his inclination lately, he spares no thought for the consequences as he reaches for his half filled glass of water and hurls it in the direction of the two men. His aim, thankfully, isn’t great and the glass lands about a foot away, shocking the husbands into silence as they stare at the shattered mess on the floor.

While the two men gape, slightly agog, the two wives have by now moved around the large granite island to the side of the kitchen where the china is kept. A shattered plate right by Micky’s foot gets the two men moving as they both immediately back up, flowers forgotten as they raise their hands in surrender. Their eyes are wide as they take in the furious gazes of their wives, the younger men practically radiating anger in waves that are slowly reaching their still clueless husbands.

The brief lull is short lived as Changmin starts to determinedly hurl whatever his hand lands on from the china filled cabinet. Jaejoong is no different, though a little less accurate. He is in full voice by now, calling both men horrid names. This time he is not just staging drama because the man is crying, which in turn makes Changmin even angrier and the plate hurling becomes more determined and more accurate. He doesn’t even flinch when one of his plates lands squarely against Yunho’s shoulder and actually curses in dismay when his well placed wine glass sails by Micky’s head. The destruction is horrific, thousands of dollars worth of china dinnerware and crystal glassware, smashed and chipped in a ten minute frenzy that is only halted when Micky, bravely dodging flying missiles having experienced this before, manages to get close enough to snag his wife who naturally starts fighting him off.

“Jaejoong, Jae…Jae…baby please calm d-“ and a loud crack echoes in the room, cutting him off abruptly. Micky stares in absolute shock at the tall young man who’s just slapped him and who is now pulling his wife away from him. That wife now hiding behind Changmin’s back, arms wrapped around his waist and sobbing into the back of his shoulder.

“Get out.”

“But-“

“Get the fuck out of here you wretch. Both of you, get out!” Changmin all but screams as he snatches the crumpled newspapers on the table and hurls it at Micky’s face. “And take your fucking whores with you. GET OUT!”

“Changmin!” Yunho’s voice is sharp, almost harsh in his shock and his wife’s words and actions.

The teenager in question whips his blazing eyes away from Micky to land them on Yunho who is staring at him as if he’s never seen the boy before. He is rubbing his injured shoulder but Changmin pays no mind to that as he all buts spits the words out at his husband. “GET. OUT.”

Micky, clutching the ball of paper, backs away. Jaejoong he can deal with. His wife will come right eventually though he has been increasingly irrational and irritable lately. Changmin is another matter altogether. Notwithstanding the fact that he is standing in his own home, he backs away, grabbing his friend along the way and tugging him out of the kitchen. Changmin is an unknown entity. He wants to soothe his crying wife but with Min standing there like a protective mama bear, there is no way he’d be able to even lay a hand on the blond man. His cheek is still smarting and he lets go of Yunho briefly to touch it, wincing at the tender skin.

Both men find themselves outside somehow, their town car still sitting idle. Exchanging looks, they shrug and Micky gets in the car followed closely by Yunho.

The two men are silent, lost in their own thoughts, fingers drumming on their thighs as the town car moves silently through the busy streets of Seoul. Two of the most powerful men in the country, but looking at them right now you wouldn’t think that at all. The taller man’s hair is uncharacteristically messy, having carded his hands through it in frustration over and over again for the better part of the last half hour. The man next to him is even more rumpled. His shirt is unbuttoned, jacket discarded long ago and his cheek is nursing a rather clear imprint of a hand.

“I think my wife loves your wife more than he even cares about me.” Micky’s voice is flat, no inflection whatsoever as he makes a statement he believes as fact. He rubs absentmindedly at his cheek, wincing slightly as the skin is still tender.

Yunho simply grunts in response, not bothering with a reply as visions of the last hour flit through his mind of two pregnant men hurling abuse and expensive dishes at his head along with his best friend’s. And the reason for that? Apparently another damnable tabloid, reporting bullshit. Honestly, he expects that behaviour from Jae because god knows that man is the epitome of possessive, his piercing glare at anyone even laying a hand on his husband would shrivel even the stoutest person. He even had a go at Changmin not too long ago when he found they had matching Mickey and Minnie keychains, not realising it was Yunho who’d bought them for his bestfriend and wife as a joke. But his own wife? His (formerly) logical, cool-headed, intelligent wife, has turned into a scarier version of Jaejoong if that’s even possible. The first shattered glass was lobbed from a tall, fuming man, fists gripping the granite island in what once was Jaejoong’s impeccable kitchen. The worst part was, both older men could tell Jaejoong’s plate throwing was mainly for show because he was just hurling things in their general direction, his choice of poison being his words instead. Changmin however was another story all together. The man was determinedly TRYING TO HIT both men. Yunho’s shoulder is still aching when a rather large plate manage to land squarely on it and Micky narrowly escaped with his head intact when a wineglass whistled past his ear, shattering against the wall. The servants, knowing what their master’s wife is like when on a rampage, had disappeared, dutifully scattering to various corners of the Park mansion, as far away as they can get.

“What the hell is wrong with them?”

“They’re pregnant?” Comes the morose answer, Yunho really has no clue anymore. Changmin’s mood swings drive him crazy, but he is a patient man and he can deal with it. However that look in his eyes is not something Yunho has seen before. He is convinced that Changmin truly intended him physical harm.

“That article is bullshit. They snapped the ONE SECOND that Go Ara had her hand on you before I came in to save your ass from the gold-digging little witch. And of course they had to take that photo of me flanked by the Jung sisters ugh. After all this time, surely those two should know better by now?” He pauses, “Ok, maybe not Jae since he goes nuts if someone even looks sideways at me but your wife, man. What’s up with Min?”

Yunho has no answer, simply shaking his head, running both hands through his already messy hair and fisting it in frustration. He looks up and barks at the driver, telling them to take them back to Park Mansion, accepting the bottle of soju that Micky hands to him silently.

The two men return to a quiet mansion. Snaring a passing maid, Micky enquires as to the whereabouts of their wives and the nervous girl manages to stammer out that they are in his office. The two men head in that direction immediately, both wondering if an hour had been enough for their spouses to cool down.

“Maybe we should have stayed away longer. We could’ve left them here and hung out at your apartment.”

“Don’t be a coward.”

“You don’t know Jaejoong do you? He can build up enough steam in an hour to knock Seoul Tower down with his fury if he wanted to.”

Yunho suppresses the urge to chuckle at that exaggeration. “He’s not that bad.”

Micky scoffs, pausing just outside his office as he turns to his friend. “Weren’t you in my kitchen just an hour ago? He is that bad. He’s lucky he’s so beautiful and I’m madly in love with him because I don’t know anyone else who’d put up with his theatrics.”

“Fool! He behaves the way he does because he loves you.”

“Love? Are you mad? Trophy wives don’t love their practically geriatric husbands. They love our money and the status.”

“We’re in our prime and you are a bigger fool than I thought. Two years of marriage hasn’t cured you of your idiotic notions as to what trophy wives are meant to be?”

“Your wife doesn’t demand LV’s Vernis bag in every single colour.”

“True, he’s more of a Gucci or DSquared person. Maybe Prada.”

“Ugh, don’t be dense. Jaejoong is in this for the money. I don’t really mind, not anymore. I can live with my one-sided love.”

“Stop acting like a tragic hero and romanticizing it. Your wife loves you. Even a blind man can see it.”

“Then why is he hellbent on making my life purgatory?”

“Jaejoong needs attention and I think he believes it’s the only way he can get your attention. He’s barely twenty for god’s sake, five months pregnant with your brat and you still treat him like your misguided idea of a trophy wife. Does he know you love him?”

“I tell him every day, hoping he’ll say it in return and instead all I normally get is a noncommittal hum. What kind of response is that?”

“Do you ever talk to him?”

“Well, what’s there to talk about? He won’t understand my business anyway so why bother when there are much more fun things to do when we’re together?” Micky waggles his eyebrows at his friend who simply shoots him a dirty look, not at all impressed with his greasiness.

“You really are an old letch. Just try it, for my sake and my wife’s sanity. Talk to him. You’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

Micky just grunts, not saying anything as he opens the door to his office.

The picture that greets them brings matching fond, loving smiles to the faces of both men, though as usual, both are completely oblivious. Changmin and Jaejoong are curled up in an oversized armchair, Changmin actually sitting in it with Jaejoong fast asleep in his lap, legs draped over an armrest. Their arms are wrapped around each other, Changmin’s mouth pressed to Jaejoong’s temple as they sleep.

“Should we wake them?” Micky whispers, eyes not leaving his wife’s face, whose brow is furrowed even in sleep and he aches to smooth it away. He wonders at the fact that Jaejoong may possibly love him back and the need to make it up to the man if he does is almost crippling.

“I want my wife so yes, you need to gets yours off him.”

Micky moves to scoop Jaejoong off Changmin’s lap but is stopped by a low growl as Changmin opens his eyes and glares up at him, and he takes a step back.

“Changmin-ah…that’s enough.” Yunho’s voice is quiet, but the command is clear.

The teenager glares up defiantly at both men, but he lets Micky scoop Jaejoong from his lap. As the man struggles with the weight of his wife and staggers backward slightly, he says nothing, turning his gaze away from his husband as he gets up to leave the room. He’s been doing that a lot lately, leaving Yunho to trail after him.

~~~

Yunho’s heart aches as he watches his wife undress, movements mechanical as he sheds each item of clothing till every stitch is off, dropping them carelessly to the floor before slipping into bed and turning away. The car ride home was silent, Yunho letting his wife stew in peace, knowing he will come round soon enough. He hasn’t tried explaining the photos yet because really, the younger man needs to learn about trust. Yunho doesn’t comment on the pile of clothing, knowing it is easier to just deal with it than risk Changmin exploding at him once again. He doesn’t think it’ll happen again tonight but who knows. Dr. Kim Eri, the wife of Jae’s doctor, had warned them that male pregnancies are notoriously volatile as the hormones wreak havoc and to expect unusual behaviour. Unusual behaviour indeed. Yunho shakes his head ruefully as he heads to the laundry to put away both their clothes, padding naked through the quite apartment. From a vengeful harpy to a protective mother bear and now a kicked puppy, Yunho is having trouble keeping up but hey, it’s only for another six months….

Changmin stiffens as he feels Yunho crawling into the warm bed, hoping his husband will leave him alone but really, that is a futile hope. He feels a warm arm wrap around him and he moves, such that his own hands are blocking Yunho’s from touching his belly. His earlier conversation with Jaejoong plays in his mind as he feels unwanted tears prick his eyes. Hasn’t he been a good wife? The idea of being tied down to someone had not come easy to Changmin, but Yunho is a rare man and Changmin is far from stupid. Yunho’s approach to marriage was much like a business transaction and it appealed to Changmin’s own logical mind. Love is not necessary in a marriage. Compatibility is far more important, and Yunho and Changmin match perfectly. However, love defies logic it seems and within a few months, he’d come to realise that he was falling for his husband. His first reaction was honestly one of annoyance. It makes no rational sense to find the way Yunho drools in his sleep cute. It makes no logical sense for his heartbeat to speed up and the blood pound in his ears when Yunho looks over at him over the head of their guests, mouth twisted into an understanding smirk as Changmin rolls his eyes at him. The way his body automatically tries to fit against Yunho’s more unyielding frame. It all makes no sense to Changmin and he hates feeling like this. To top off his irrational and illogical behaviour and emotions, he is also now heartbroken and this adds to his anger and resentment towards his “sugar daddy”.

Instead of a pliable body, Yunho finds himself with an armful of what could probably pass for a skinny tree trunk. He doesn’t give up though, nuzzling into the back of Changmin’s neck the way he knows he likes it and presses gentle kisses along his tanned shoulder.

“I hate you.”

Yunho stops moving, his eyebrows knotted in confusion, wondering if he’s hearing things. He runs his hand up Changmin’s chest and is stopped by his wife’s hand, squeezing in warning as he repeats the words he thinks he imagined.

“I fucking hate you.”


End file.
